GETTING IN ON THE GROUND FLOOR WITH AN ELEVATOR OPERATOR

With the advent of automatic elevators, the number of jobs for elevator operators started going down, until today in Chicago there are only a handful of buildings that have manual passenger cars.

One is Randolph Tower, an office building at 188 W. Randolph St. where Joseph Guidara works. He has been an elevator operator most of his life, beginning right out of high school at the Stevens Hotel (now the Conrad Hilton), 720 S. Michigan Ave. He did a stint in the Coast Guard and then worked for 6 years at the Blackstone Hotel, 636 S. Michigan Ave., 10 years at the First National Bank Building and another 10 at the Monadnock Building, 53 W. Jackson Blvd., before taking his present job.

The 60-year-old Chicago native reared three children with his wife, Theresa, who died two years ago. He has two grandchildren. Guidara told writer Kathleen Vyn that his family enjoyed hearing tales about celebrities he met on the job and seeing the hundreds of autographs he brought home.

Naturally Guidara thinks push-button convenience still leaves something to be desired: ''A lot of passengers, particularly women, like it when there`s someone there, to guard against robbers or pickpockets,'' he says. ''It makes them feel more secure. In any case, if anything happens, the operator is there to help.''

When I started this job years ago, I never dreamed I`d last. After working 10 hours, I felt like I was intoxicated. I was light-headed. At night while I was falling asleep, I could feel the bed go up and down like a ship at sea.

Most people can`t do my job. I`ve seen operators last four hours and quit. It`s tough. You`ve got to be a special breed.

Most people don`t know that Dorothy Lamour worked as an elevator operator at Marshall Field`s in Chicago. That was how a Hollywood producer discovered her. The next thing you know she was a star dressed in those skimpy South Sea Island outfits in films with Bing Crosby and Bob Hope.

I started out as an operator at the Stevens Hotel in 1939. It was the most luxurious hotel in Chicago. Society people stayed there. Our starter

(boss) treated us like army recruits. We had to stand at attention every morning. We had to be clean-shaven. Our hair had to be cut every two weeks. We wore white gloves and uniforms. We were given a clean outfit every day. If it got stained, we changed immediately.

We had to be polite in those days. We`d say, ''Going up, please.''

''Thank you, sir.'' I loved it. Courtesy isn`t as important today. Very few people thank me.

We were part of a union as we are today. I`m a member of Local No. 25 Service Employees International Union. It also includes plumbers, janitors and other laborers. We were paid well. When I started, at the end of the Depression, I made $25 every two weeks, which was good money. Now I make $9 an hour.

Once I came close to falling down an elevator shaft. It would have been my own fault. I left the car to go to the washroom on the 11th floor. The car was dark; I had turned out the light. I left the door open. When I returned, I ran to the elevator, ready to jump in. I had the impression the elevator was there. However, the mechanics, thinking it was broken, had taken it up to the 12th floor for repairs. It was so dark I didn`t see that the elevator was gone.

The only thing that saved me was that I put my hands on the doors. I had one foot in and the other foot out. Something made me hold on. So I was half in and half out. I looked down, realized the car was gone and screamed. I`m sure everyone in the hotel heard me. I was pale, shaking. I still haven`t entirely gotten over it. It`s been 40 years since it happened. Sometimes I still think about it.

In those days it would have been front page news: ''Elevator Operator Falls 11 Floors to His Death.'' I shudder when I think about it.

The longest I`ve ever been stuck in an elevator was about 10 minutes. It doesn`t happen very often. I just buzz, and the mechanics get me out right away. There are fewer problems with manual elevators than automatic ones because manual ones have fewer electric wires. The automatic elevators have wires to open the door and move the car up and down. The wires get old. People are always worried about being stuck in elevators. In my 30 years, though, I`ve never seen anyone hurt in an elevator.

I`ve met lots of celebrities on the job, especially when I worked at the Blackstone, politicians like Harry S Truman, Dwight Eisenhower, Eleanor Roosevelt and Richard Nixon and movie stars such as Paulette Goddard, Mona Freeman, Danny Thomas, Mary Martin and Spencer Tracy. After a while I got used to it. It`s like seeing everyone else. You see how average they are. I was friendly and courteous. I didn`t treat them differently. Once when Mona Freeman was in my car, she got the impression I didn`t know who she was. I didn`t address her by her name until I said, ''You know, Miss Freeman.'' I treated her like a regular person. She was surprised. ''You mean you knew who I was?'' she said.

Some of the stars expected special treatment, like an express ride to their apartment. Pat O`Brien was one of them. He came in half drunk at 3 a.m. and expected immediate service. As the night operator, I was responsible for many things, from bellhopping luggage to selling newspapers. I tried to explain that to him. ''Where are you?'' he screamed. ''What`s the matter.'' He wouldn`t listen to my explanation. He just wanted immediate service.

I was also disappointed in Spencer Tracy. He came into the Blackstone wearing sunglasses, expecting not to be noticed. Three elderly ladies who recognized him asked me whether they should ask him for his autograph. I told them to go ahead. He was nasty to them, saying, ''I`m very busy. I don`t have time.'' They were hurt.

However, most of the people I`ve dealt with have been nice. Fanny May Scoville (wealthy widow of Charles B. Scoville, majority stockholder in the Elgin watch company) was one of those. She rented a whole suite in the Blackstone. Whenever I gave her an express ride, she tipped me $5. She always carried a bag filled with fruit. She dressed eccentrically, like a cleaning lady. But she was a generous, wonderful person. When one of the maids was down on her luck and could not afford to buy a furnace for her house, she bought her one.

Mary Martin stayed at the Blackstone for three months during the run of a play. She always dressed simply. You`d never know she was a star. She`d tell me how much she loved Chicago and the hotel. We talked about everything. She told me how much she respected and admired Eleanor Roosevelt, whom I met while she was staying at the Blackstone. They were a lot alike. I felt I could have invited Mary Martin to dinner and she would have come. She was down to earth, unaffected.

Eleanor Roosevelt dressed in smocks. I was ready to take her express to her apartment like the other celebrities, but she didn`t want any special treatment. She told me to let the other people in. She wanted to talk to everyone, learn more about people. She didn`t want to live in a vacuum.

We really earned our pay when the Shriner`s convention was in town. The Blackstone lobby was wall-to-wall people. There was even a rope in front of the elevators to keep them back. We took carloads up and down all day.

I`ve been pretty healthy all my life doing this job. You can get sick easily. People sneeze on you. You`re exposed to everything. My job isn`t that different from that of the old trolley drivers years ago, except the elevator goes up and down on tracks rather than along them. We have similar controls, neutral, up, down and stop, much like the trolley.

After all these years, I still love my job. I love being with people. I like the people in the building where I work now. The health club members are good-spirited, friendly. The lawyers are gentlemen.

There are always a few rude ones--but the good ones compensate for the bad ones. That`s what I like about this job.